


A N G E L (Roger Daltrey)

by lilstardustbaby



Category: The Who (Band)
Genre: 1960s, 1970s, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Rock Stars, Rock and Roll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 19,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26130061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilstardustbaby/pseuds/lilstardustbaby
Summary: The smile painted across my face stretched wider as I hatched an idea."Hey Nance!" I yelled into her ear, digging my fingers into her arm. "We should sneak backstage!"
Kudos: 2





	1. One

Janice's POV

I couldn't even begin to believe it. My favorite band, The Who, was touring America for their new album "Tommy", and I was going to see them.

"Tommy" had become my favorite record the second it was released. The band was coming to Cincinnati, only about an hour and a half drive from me, and it was the week after my 18th birthday.

Nancy, my best friend in the world, had surprised me with the tickets.

Tonight was the night. Nance and I stood in my room, getting ready. Well, I was getting ready. Nancy already had herself put together. She was wearing a (quite obnoxious, though I'd never tell her that) floral dress and big chunky shoes. Her blonde, feathery hair kissed the tops of her shoulders and round, orange sunglasses were perched on top of her head. She was watching me pace around my room in nothing but my skinny black thong.

"C'mon, Janice, hurry!" she huffed, scuffing her heel against my shag carpet.

"Hey, careful with my carpet!" I cried, digging through my closet for the millionth time. I yanked out a pair of bell bottom jeans and jumped into them, wiggling my hips. I whirled around to Nancy. "Maybe I ought to just go like this." I teased, shaking my bare chest at her.

She put her hands over her eyes. "It's not Woodstock, Jan, really. Now hurry or else we aren't going to make it! And I know you don't want to miss Roger, now do you?"

The sheer mention of his name sent the blood rushing to my face, and I spun around on my toes, pulling my top drawer open and flinging things out until I landed on a plain white tube top. I tugged it on over my head and sashayed over to my mirror. I gave my long brown hair a shake and mussed it up a bit to give it some volume. Then I stepped into my own pair of platform shoes.

"Alright, let's go!" I squealed.

Nancy jumped up off my bed and I grabbed my macrame purse on the way out.

"Bye mom!" I hollered, though I knew she was probably passed out drunk downstairs.

We dove into Nancy's blue slug bug and slammed the doors, starting our mini road trip to Cincy.

I opened my bag up and started doing my makeup. I dabbed some concealer on my blemishes and dusted some powder over my face. I dug out my busted up rouge and put some on my cheeks. Then, using the rearview mirror, I lightly smeared some blue eyeshadow onto my lids with my fingers.

"Dammit, I've gotta see in there to drive!" Nancy laughed, grabbing my head like a claw machine and shoving me away.

"Fine, whatever. I don't need a mirror anyway." I started liberally applying mascara.

"Christ, you got Revlon's whole stock in there?" Nance marveled.

"Yeah, what about it?" I swiped on some pretty, neutral lipstick. "Gotta look good for Rog."

Silence fell over the car.

Then we both burst into laughter.

"Cuz he's gonna notice some random girl in the crowd. Dream on!" Nancy waved one hand in front of her face, as if to dry laughter tears.

"Well he might!" I said defensively.

"He might." She smiled at me, suddenly serious. "Y'know, I've kinda got my eye on the drummer."

"Moonie?" I gaped. "You've got a thing for Moon the loon?"

Embarrassed silence.

"And you didn't tell me till just now?"

"Well...."

"Well nothing! You like Moonie! Nancy likes Moonie, Nancy likes Moonie!" I clapped my hands like a deranged seal.

"Jan wants to do it with Roger!" She mocked in a high-pitched voice.

"That's not what I sound like!" I shrieked.

"Dah nah whet ah sawn liiike."

"Shut uuuuup!"

"Sheh ehhhhhp!"

I reached over and smacked her playfully.

"Oh hoho, you're so stunned!" She said. She reached out to smack me back and then swerved sharply, tossing us sideways. Horns honked at us. "Look, you almost made me miss the exit."

"Shit, sorry. Anyway, do you wanna listen to something?"

"Sure. Put the radio on."

The next hour passed quickly, and my heart sped up as we pulled into the lot of the Cincinnati Music Hall.


	2. Two

**Janice's POV**

My legs felt like jell-o.

My brain was fuzzy with excitement, and I held Nancy's hand as I wobbled to the front. We were really close to the stage!

I collapsed into my seat beside my best friend, looking at her wide-eyed.

"You stoked?" She asked gleefully, raking her fingers through her hair.

"Beyond." I replied. "I'm sweating." I fanned myself with my hands and she fanned me with her hands, too.

"Keep it together, man. This is gonna be totally tight!" Nance was practically bursting with excitement.

"I know, I can't wait to see Roger in person!"

The couple rows in front of and the many rows behind us were filling up fast. My stomach churned and my heart stopped beating normally, taking to slamming against my ribcage instead.

The lights went down in the theater, plunging us into darkness. The crowd erupted into screams and I was so excited I practically blacked out. The sound of a guitar tuning flowed from the speakers. Nancy and I cheered like crazy, smacking each other's arms like schoolgirls, going absolutely wild.

With a bang of Keith's drums, light exploded back into the theater. There, before my very eyes, was The Who. The crowd was bursting with noise, and in a display of pure passion, I leapt to my feet, standing _in_ my seat. I reached my hands up and screamed, eyes blurred as tears rolled down my face. The music washed over me like deafening tidal waves.

Once the shock wore off and my vision refocused, I settled my gaze on Roger, the angel himself. Our seats were so good I could see the crisp crystal blue of his eyes.

"NANCY!" I shouted. She, too, was standing on her chair. I pulled her head to me so I could shout directly into her ear. There was no way she'd hear me otherwise. "THANK YOU SO MU-U-UCH!" I burst into a fresh set of tears.

"YOU'RE WELCOME, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" She replied into my ear, kissing me on the cheek.

We joined hands, lacing our fingers together and letting the music sweep us out into the farthest reaches of the galaxy and back again.

The song finished and there were cheers all around. Roger started talking then, introducing the next song. I realized my legs were still quite wobbly and stepped down onto the floor. Nancy followed suit.

I peered up into Roger's face, admiring the way his sweet blond curls framed his beautiful features. I would give anything to have my hands in those curls. Anything.

I looked over to my left to see Nance admiring Keith in the same way. Before I had any chance to tease her about it, the band launched into I Can See For Miles.

Nancy and I danced, our hands in the air as if we were having some sort of religious experience. Though I guess, to an extent, we were.

The words to the song spilled out of me as I jumped to the beat, taking breaks between bursts of leaping to sway my hips with just as much enthusiasm. Keith's drums boomed in my chest and Roger's voice created tingly champagne bubbles in my brain that spread from the crown of my head into the tips of my outstretched fingers.

For a brief moment, I focused on John. In the chaos of the crowd and the energy on the stage, he was the eye of the storm. His vocalizations floated over my head in some unusually ethereal plane separate from that of the others.

And then there was Pete. He played with such fiery intensity that it nearly came across as rage. I was, to say the least, entirely captivated by all four of them.

As the song drew to its end, I pushed the sweaty hair plastered to my forehead back to where it belonged before settling a hand over my racing heart.

I looked over at Nancy, who was also sweating and fanning her flushed face. We decided to sit down. This decision did not last long, however, because as soon as our bodies touched the seats, Pinball Wizard started playing and we both leapt up.

A huge grin broke over my face and I threw my head back, singing along. They were playing my new favorite album! Not only that, but one of the best songs off of it!

I reached both arms out to my sides, quite effectively smacking Nancy in the chest and narrowly missing the stranger on my right. Nance raised an eyebrow at me amid her own glee.

Then, for half a second, time came to a total standstill. Roger seemed to make direct eye contact with me. My face went red and my vision went white as I was transported onto some sort of astral field where only the two of us existed

The smile painted across my face stretched wider as I hatched an idea.

"Hey Nance!" I yelled into her ear, digging my fingers into her arm. "We should sneak backstage!"


	3. Three

**Janice's POV**

Nancy gaped at me, and for a moment I was afraid she'd say no.

Not that it mattered if she did, I had full intent on going with or without her at that point.

"YES!" she screamed. "YES, LET'S DO IT!"

We burst into a whole new set of screams, jumping up and down.

The rest of the concert passed in a frenzied blur, though I tried to hang on to every last second.

At the very end of the show, I watched with wide eyes as Pete rammed his guitar into the amp behind him. An explosion of noise rocked the venue. I clamped my hands over my ears.

Pete and Keith both set into completely obliterating their instruments, and the sound was excruciating, to say the least. Roger danced around them, spinning in circles, then dropping to his knees in front of Keith's drums, bits of which were going everywhere. In the madness, John simply stepped back, hands protectively gripping his prized bass guitar, his stoic expression unchanging.

Once the sound stopped and the smoke cleared, Nancy grabbed my hand and we started walking.

Sneaking backstage was easier than we expected. Turns out, as long as you walk with purpose and look like you know what you're doing, it's pretty likely that no one will stop you.

After a few moments' worth of completely directionless wandering, we found ourselves in front of a door pushed slightly ajar. Keith's hysterical laugh floated out into the hall, followed by an irritated whiny voice that must've been Pete's.

I smoothed out my hair and yanked up my tube top, only to immediately pull it back down a little, exposing a bit of cleavage. I rolled my shoulders back and took a breath.

"Ready?" I asked Nancy.

She nodded, taking a deep breath of her own. "Let's do it."

I peered through the crack and found myself staring at the backs of The Who. Cautiously, I pushed the door open the tiniest bit further.

_Crreeeaaak._

I bit my lip and cringed at the squeaking of the hinges. Four heads whipped around, four sets of eyes burned through Nancy and I.

"Rog," John said smoothly, "couple'a burds at the door."

"Yeh, I see that." He replied, cocking an eyebrow at us and then letting a grin take over his features.

My face turned redder, if such a thing were possible.

Then, snapping into action like a wind-up toy, Keith sprung across the room, throwing the door open to its greatest extent and beaming at us.

"'Ello, ladies!"

We both blinked at him, smiling stupidly.

"So you're going to come in today? Or you just going to stand there like grinning idiots?" With that, he grabbed one of our hands in either of his and yanked us inside, closing the door behind us.

Nancy stared at the hand he had held seconds earlier, mouth agape.

"Nance, you're gonna catch flies," I whispered frantically, using my hand to lift her chin up.

An awkward silence hung around us, the air felt like pudding.

"We're just big fans of your music." Nancy finally said.

"A-and your faces!" I chimed in. John's cheeks reddened slightly and I sucked my lips in, biting them nervously.

"And your faces," Nancy repeated, smirking at Keith.

"Well innit that nice. Alright, girls, so we'll see you out now, thanks for coming to the show—" Pete was saying, but he was cut off by Keith.

"C'mon Peter lettem stay!" He pled, hopping from foot to foot, doe eyes sparkling. "'sides, that one's got a nice ass," he stage-whispered into his ear. And then at a normal volume, "what's your name, sweet'art?"

"Uh, Nancy," said Nancy, ducking her head shyly. Her sunglasses toppled off the top of her head and onto the floor, dragging her hair into her eyes on the way down. "Fuck. Fuck me." She swore quietly. She stooped over to pick them up and straighten herself back around.

"Slow down baby, I plan on it." Keith commented coolly.

Nancy put her hands over her face and let out a tiny explosion of nervous giggles. Keith crossed over to her and pulled her hands away.

I choked a bit and looked off somewhere else, which happened to be at Roger, which made me choke again, but worse this time.

"Would you care for a drink?" He asked me, cheshire grin making my heart turn.

"Oh, no, I don't drink, I'm only just eighteen, I—"

"Of water."

"Oh."

He reached over into a little red cooler, silver cross dangling...oh, I hoped it'd be dangling over me soon...

He twisted the lid off of a bottle of water with a crack and offered it to me.

"Thanks," I breathed, taking a sip. "I'm Janice. And you're beautiful."

Pete snickered and then turned around so I wouldn't see him laughing at me, but it was obvious.

"Hey, don't laugh at me!" I cried.

"'S'allright, he's just jealous," Roger looked me up and down as I had done to him so many times, "and I think you're beautiful, too."

"Jeyzus, could you get a room?" Pete fumed.

I looked over at Nancy and Keith to see their foreheads pressed together, admiring each other like real lovers.

"That's a good idea." Said Rog. "Why don't you come back to the 'otel with me, Janice? We could get to know each other." He shot me a wink.

Niagara Falls, if you catch my drift. 

"I'd like that." I smiled coyly.


	4. Four

**Janice's POV**

Roger opened the passenger's side door of his very nice (I'm no good at cars, I have no idea what it was) car for me like a true gentleman.

I slid into the seat and he closed the door. I watched him walk around the front of the car, opening his own door and joining me.

"I'm surprised you drive yourself," I said, trying to make conversation, "I know Keith has a chauffeur."

"Not as of January he doesn't." Roger raised his eyebrows and shook his head, pulling out into the street.

"Uh oh, what'd he do this time?" I cocked my head.

"You really want to know?" He screwed up his face, baby blue eyes squinting out the windshield.

"Well, yeah."

"Promise you won't say anything to anyone else." His eyes searched me earnestly then, making me squirm in my seat.

"Definitely, I promise. What was it?"

Roger sighed. "He ran the 'ell over him."

My jaw dropped. "Holy moly, really?"

"Yeh, Keith and his wife Kim and all that lot were at a party in the pub and a couple'a skinheads was 'arassing them as they were leavin', shaking the car 'n all. So the chauffeur stepped out to 'andle it and Keith popped over into the driver's seat and flat mowed 'em down. Wasn't on purpose or nothing, he was actually trying to 'elp."

"Get out of here!" I swatted his shoulder. "Is Keith okay?"

"Truthfully, he's still in bits about it."

"I don't blame him. Sorry for bringing it up." I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to chase off the tension that had set up in it.

"'S'allright, you had no way of knowing," he reached over and patted my knee sympathetically. I shivered. "You cold? I can turn down the AC."

"No, I'm sweating, actually." I pushed his hand away from the controls on the dash and he laced our fingers together. "You just make me nervous."

"Why?" He asked, a trace of worry running through the lines on his face.

I gaped at him. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because you're _the_ Roger Daltrey of my all-time favorite band _The_ Who and now you're driving me in your car and you're holding my hand and I've wanted to jump your bones since I was, like, twelve?"

I yanked my hand out of his and smacked them both over my mouth. Way to go, Jan.

Next to me, Roger burst into laughter. It filled the car with such a lightweight giddiness I was sure we were going to start floating away.

"Janice, you are a trip," he proclaimed once he had gotten control of himself again.

"Really?" I marveled.

"Yeh, I think you're _groovy_." We giggled like kids. He took my hand again and we pulled into the hotel parking lot.

"Hey, that looks like Nancy's beetle bug," I said, pointing out the window. Oh my gosh, Nancy drove _Keith Moon_ in her beetle bug.

"Ah, it's cute! I've been thinking 'bout getting one." Roger put the car in park and shut the engine off. I reached for the handle of the door to get out. "No, don't you touch that." I recoiled quickly like something had bitten me, afraid I had somehow marred Roger Daltrey's car with my greasy teenage fingers. "A pretty lady like you shouldn't open her own door."

He stepped out of the car and shut his door. As he walked around, I buried my face in my hands and squealed, tapping my feet excitedly.

He opened my door and offered me his hand.

"Are you all right?" He asked as he helped me out.

"Yeah, totally. Why?" I eyeballed Nancy's car, trying to ground myself in reality. This was crazy, I had to be dreaming.

"The squeal." Roger said smugly. I sighed, face reddening for the millionth time. "No, it's cute. You're cute."

"Thank you," I said quietly, looking at my shoes.

He led me into the hotel and up we went to the sixth floor. He stuck the key into the lock and turned it, pushing the door open before even removing the key.

Upon walking in, we were met with Pete in a hotel bathrobe, who yelped in surprise and tried to cover his already-covered self.

"Oh, Rog, 's just you." He breathed.

"Yeh, who'd you think it was? The queen?" Roger pulled his shoes off, motioning for me to do the same.

"Unfortunately, it's just the duchess." I piped up in a teasing tone.

Roger whirled around and glared at me, angelic baby blues turning cold and severe. He took a breath, trying not to lose his temper. "Don't call me that." He said flatly.

"Sorry, I—"

"'S'allright, you didn't know. Should've. But you didn't." He shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

I felt the overwhelming urge to cry.

"Oh, now look what you've did to the girl," Pete said accusingly. I must've looked shattered.

I stood there pathetically, barefoot on the hotel carpet, lipsticked lip trembling. My head was rushing and I felt hot and embarrassed. Why did I have to be so sensitive?

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I overreacted, you didn't know," Roger said softly, tilting his curly head like a puppy.

"No, I'm sorry for saying it. And for crying, I just—" I swatted away a tear that had quite embarrassingly leaked out "—I just really look up to you and admire you and I don't want you to be angry with me."

"Aww. It's all right. Really. I'd blame it on the post-show adrenaline, but the truth is I have no excuse for being so fussy." The now-cherubic rockstar took my hand and kissed it sweetly, making me smile.

"Keep the boy in check," Pete said to me with little eye roll, "I'm going out to the deck to have a smoke." And with that he slipped through the sliding glass door into the night.

"Hey, you know what my favorite thing to do after a show is?" Rog asked gently.

I shook my head and grinned, suddenly feeling extra shy.

"I like to have a nice warm shower." He smiled cheekily. "Would you like to join me?"


	5. Five

** Shittily written smut at the end, I apologize in advance.  **

**Roger's POV**

Janice raised her eyebrows at me, then dragged her hand across her face.

"Well?" I chuckled. I sidestepped past her into the bathroom, shrugging off my already-unbuttoned shirt.

"Uhhhhh," she drawled un-eloquently, "yeah. That's, that'd be pretty stellar, actually."

"Well, come on, then!" I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the bathroom, spinning her like a ballerina and shutting the door behind us.

I backed her up against the wall, trapping her by putting a hand up on either side of her. Her pretty, hazel eyes flitted between my blue ones, her lips parted, her breath shallow.

I dipped my head down closer, caressing her face with one hand, the other still on the wall.

"Holy shit." She whispered.

And then we were kissing.

She melted into me like the richest of chocolates, her small hands trailing up into my curls. She took fistfuls of them and raked her fingers through them. She clung to me like she was afraid I'd evaporate into mist, and I did the same to her.

With a final gentle peck to her sweet lips, I pulled away and pressed my forehead to hers, which was searing hot. She panted softly. Her eyes remained closed.

I placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. Her blue-tinted eyelids fluttered open.

"Jinkies, you're still here," a tiny smile danced at the corners of her mouth, "and my lipstick is all over you."

She rubbed her thumb over my lips and chin.

"Did you not expect me to be here?" I asked, kissing her thumb.

"No, really, I'm still pretty convinced I'm dreaming. What's the time?"

"Quarter past. What're you doing?" I looked at her confusedly as she counted her fingers and then outstretched a skinny arm, flipping the bathroom lights off, momentarily plunging us into darkness, and then back on again.

"I'm checking to see if I'm dreaming. Nobody can ever tell you the time in dreams. And light switches don't work. And you have too many fingers." She blabbered.

I laughed softly. "You're tripping."

"No, I read it in this book last summer—"

I cut her off by kissing her again, pulling her body flush to mine by her belt loops.

"Lose the pants, baby," I gave her ass a tap and turned around, sauntering over to the shower and starting the water. I stepped out of my own pants and turned around to see Janice in a black thong, the rest of her half in and half out of her white tube top.

**Janice's POV**

By the time I had wrestled myself out of my top, Roger was standing there in his underwear, the shower water running behind him.

"What's shakin', bacon?" I asked sheepishly.

"Your world, in a minute," he said lowly, stepping out of his skivvies. My gaze flickered down to his growing manhood. "My eyes are up here, doll."

"Doll. I like that." I smiled. I strutted over to him, confidence growing. I figured if I was gonna do my celebrity crush in the shower, I might as well lose any reservations.

He grabbed me by the waist then, yanking down the only fabric left on my body. My favorite black thong toppled to my ankles.

He pulled me into the shower. The hot water rained down on us, turning Roger's beautiful blond curls into a dark, straight mane not too unlike my own. His baby blues tore into me, looking me up and down. The water glistened in little droplets on his large cross necklace. If Tommy were a real person, this must've been him. See me feel me, indeed.

"You're actually an angel," I murmured in awe.

"Well this must be heaven, then, because I'm looking at an angel, too," he settled his hands on my ass and pulled me in, kissing me gently.

"Smooth moves, mister," I kissed him again, letting my fingers wander over his warm skin, trying to memorize the way it felt.

I knew that after tonight, my proverbial horse drawn carriage would be pumpkins and mice again, and I never wanted to forget the way his lips felt against mine, and the way he tasted of humanity in its purest form.

Our kissing evolved into lusty need, and I could feel his erection pressing against my bare stomach. I placed a soft kiss square in the middle of his chest, clutching his necklace momentarily. It was heavier than I expected.

I trailed slow kisses down his body until I was on my knees in front of him, water flowing into my face, running down my cheeks like tears.

I gazed up at him. "Can I?"

"God, I thought you'd never ask," he practically groaned.

Biting back a nervous smile, I grazed my fingers over his skin teasingly, slowly, finally settling them where he had (rather impatiently) been waiting for them to go.

I wrapped my hand around his length and began stroking, closing my eyes out of anxiety.

The sighs and groans coming from him made me glad I was on my knees or else I'd probably be concussed from fainting.

I opened my eyes to see his head leaned back slightly, his skin flushed.

Cautiously, I leaned closer and took him into my mouth. My heart was beating so fast I was afraid it was going to explode. I closed my eyes again.

His hand came down and tangled into my hair, fingers gently caressing the back of my head.

This was crazy. I was going crazy. No, don't let your stream of consciousness interfere with giving a rockstar a blowjob, Jan.

I kept going, using my hands as well, until he very suddenly pulled me to my feet by the hair he had wrapped in his hand.

"Wh—" I began.

"Please let me touch you," he cut me off, panting.

"I—okay!"

He put me against the shower wall then, and i flinched at the cold tile on my back. He kissed me passionately, running his finger over my soaked slit as he did.

"God, you're so wet," he groaned.

I gasped as he slipped his finger in, practically collapsing into his chest. Then, I reached into the small space between us, resuming pleasuring him.

I could tell he was getting close. What I didn't expect, however, was the dominance in his voice when he said,

"Get on your knees."

Obediently, I sank back to my knees in the shower floor.

"Open," he commanded, grabbing my chin.

I looked up at his face, my mouth open, smiling slightly, and eagerly let him finish himself into my mouth.   
\- - -  
I HATE WRITING SMUT THAT I WANT TO READ. I don't care to write it for other people or for the meme, but MAN this was hard because I was like how do I phrase this in a way that doesn't make me want to rip my own skin off? And it's still terrible. Oh well.


	6. Six

**Nancy's POV**

When Keith and I got to the hotel, we went straight to work, if you catch my drift.

The room was destroyed, and the air of chaos that swirled around only made me more giddy and excited.

Keith was absolutely mad in the sheets, which wasn't a huge surprise, as he's absolutely mad everywhere else, too.

He was doing me bent forward over the bed when the headboard hit the wall with such force that the framed painting hanging over it let go of the nail it was holding on to. It raced down the wall, disappearing behind the bed and shattering loudly.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, moving to assess the damage.

"Don't worry 'bout it sweet'art," Keith grunted, grabbing me by the hips and pulling me back, sinking himself back into me.

I clawed at the sheets in ecstasy. My eyes flew open as he thrusted deeper than ever, and I found myself looking at the clock. It read 2:02 AM.

"Christ!" I squealed, scrambling up the bed and reaching for the telephone.

"What now?" Moaned Keith. He collapsed onto the floor, pouting like a child. His puppy eyes blinked up at me.

"I have to call my _parents_!" I yelled. "They were expecting me to call right after the concert! I should be home by now! Jesus, I'm gonna get killed!"

I picked up the receiver and started dialing the number. I held it to my ear as it started ringing.

"Nancy! How bout you—" Keith was crawling up onto the bed.

"Shut up! Shut _up!_ It's _ringing_ , Keith, I—hello! Hi mom! Sorry I didn't call, it was such a mad rush getting out of the theater—I know, I know it's 2 AM, can't you just rejoice that your beloved offspring isn't dead? Listen, mama, I'll see you in the morning, I'm staying with Lori tonight, remember?"

"You told me no such thing!" My mother crowed through the receiver, making Keith cover his mouth to hold back laughter.

"Oh, I could've sworn I did! I'm sorry. But I'm safe, so it's no worries—"

John burst into the room then.

"CRIPES!" He yelled, smacking his hand over his eyes upon seeing Keith and I naked as the days we were born.

"Who was _that_?!" My mom roared. Keith buried his head into a pillow. His shoulders shook with laughter.

"Lori's brother!" I cried. I looked around frantically, searching the walls of the hotel room for some sort of backstory. "We're trying on clothes and he came in while Lori was changing!"

From his place in pillow land, Keith stuck his hand out for a high-five and I slapped it quietly.

"Don't stay up so late, Nance, you have things to do tomorrow," mom sighed in defeat, "you exhaust me, child."

"I know. I love you!" I sang into the receiver.

"I know it. I love you, too. Now get to bed."

I placed the phone back into its cradle.

Keith emerged from the pillow, wiping tears out of his eyes. He was red with laughter, and I fought the urge to kiss him and pinch his cheeks.

"Sounds like you've done that a time'r two. Very impressive."

"Once or twice," I grinned.

"So where were we?" He asked, giving me a push so that I fell back into the balled-up comforter, which had somehow migrated up to the headboard.

"Wait, what about John?" I inquired, sitting back up.

"What, do you want him in on it too? JOHN-BOY!" Keith cupped his hands around his mouth as he shouted.

"NO! No, that's the thing, I very much don't want him in on it!" I put my face into my hands.

"Oh. NEVER MIND, JOHNNY-WONNY!"

"Keith Middle Name Moon, you're going to get us kicked out of this hotel." I groaned.

"Hey, wouldn't be the first time. And me middle name's John."

"Well, Keith John Moon, if you don't take it down, like, ten notches, I'm going to sock you into next year, and it's only July." I punched my fist into my opposite hand for effect.

"Or," he said as if he were about to make me an offer I couldn't refuse, "you could shut up and love me."  
\- - -  
 **Janice's POV**

"I wonder what they're doing over there?" I asked Roger after a particularly loud crash followed by what sounded like glass shattering.

"I doubt we want to know." He kissed my cheek, squeezing me tightly and then gently tickling my side, making me screech and flinch away.

We were laying in bed together completely naked, our bodies pressed together, skin on skin and up to our chins in the soft, white covers.

"Roger," I hummed, twirling one of his baby soft curls around my finger, "I know this sounds like a real trippy thing to say, but I feel like we have this soul connection."

He laughed softly and pressed our foreheads together.

"That does sound like a trippy thing to say, but I understand. I feel it too."

We sat in silence for a moment, save the low sound of Pete snoring across the room.

"Am I ever gonna see you again?" Roger finally said.

I sighed. "I dunno, it's hard to say. Realistically, probably not. Not by chance. Not unless we make some sort of effort about it. And I've only just finished high school, I still have all of college ahead of me!"

"I know I've only just met you, but I think you're worth the effort. Even if it's just to maintain a friendship and nothing more." He rubbed his thumb over my skinny shoulder in a comforting way.

"Gosh, that's awfully sweet!" I blushed. "I appreciate it a lot. I don't think anyone likes me enough to put in effort for a long distance relationship. Not even a long distance friendship!"

"What about that girl you've brought with you? Peggy, was it?"

"Nancy." I giggled.

"Nancy. Where the 'ell did I get Peggy from?" Roger shook his head.

"I dunno. But what I do know is that this time tomorrow I'll be asleep in my bed, and without you." I smiled sadly.

"Well tonight I'll just have to hold you extra tight so you don't forget me." He gave me another tight squeeze, making me wheeze, which made both of us laugh.

"I could never forget you!" I swatted his chest gently.

"And I you. You're unforgettable, Jan."


	7. Seven

**Janice's POV**

I woke up at the crack of dawn to knocking on the door.

Roger was completely wrapped around me. I sighed, slithering out of his hold, trying hard not to wake him.

"Heather, Heather, noooo!" He whined. He curled up in a little ball and mumbled some random sounds.

Who the hell is Heather?

I grabbed a hotel robe off the floor and shrugged into it, tying it up as I walked to the door.

I opened it up to find Nancy standing there, pale as a sheet from lack of sleep. Her long hair was in tangles and her floral dress was crumpled up. It hung limply on her like she was a store mannequin. She was holding her shoes in her hand and her big orange sunglasses were nowhere to be seen.

"Janice," she began, her voice rough with the morning, "we gotta jam, man. Get your clothes on."

"What?" I asked. My head was swimming. I was so tired.

"We've gotta book. Now. Unfortunately, my mom actually, like, cares where I am, ya know?" She smacked at her dress, a hopeless attempt to straighten it out a bit.

I sighed. "Uncalled for. Get in here."

Nancy stepped around me into the room.

"Be quiet, there's rockstars at rest," I whispered.

I picked my way around the room, searching for my belongings. Then I remembered they were probably in the bathroom. I walked in and saw my clothes lying in a heap.

Quickly, I dressed myself, eyeballing my reflection in the smudgy mirror. I combed my fingers through my hair, trying to get it into some sort of order.

Luckily, there was a hairbrush lying on the edge of the bathroom sink. I picked it up, turning it over in my hands. It looked like there was something engraved in the handle. I held it up to the light and saw "P.T." Interesting.

I shrugged and brushed my hair with Pete Townshend's hairbrush, then tossed it to Nancy so she could fix hers too.

"Okay, are you finally ready?" She asked.

"Yeah. Wait, shit, did I leave my purse in your car?" I scanned the room for the macrame bag.

"You did," she said, "now come on, we gotta motor. My mom's gonna hang me when we get back."

"Okay, just one more thing." I scurried over to the bedside table and pulled out the pad and pen that lived in its top drawer, scribbling my home phone number down and sticking it to the phone.

Then, as an afterthought, I leaned over and kissed Roger's forehead. A smile flickered over his lips.

" _Janice_!" Nancy whispered frantically.

"I'm coming!" I scampered back to the door, stepping into my shoes on the way out.   
\- - -  
"Can you put the radio on?" Nance asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Sure." I pushed the power button. "What to?"

She yawned. "Anything that'll keep me from falling asleep at the wheel. My mom would _really_ kill me if I died in a car crash. Well, I guess she'd have to raise me from the grave first, but _then_ she'd really kill me, ya know?"

I shrugged. "Can't say I do. Hey, don't you wanna talk about Keith?"

"There's not much to say. We did it, and it was great, but we had to stop halfway through because I remembered I had to call my friggin mother. So that dampened the mood a little. And then he finished and passed out. So. Anyway, how was old Roggie?"

"Really groovy, he's actually a cool cat. And we had, like, this soul connection. I think I'll probably see him again, I just have that feeling. But, uh, basically I sucked him off in the shower and then we did it in the bed afterwards. It was better than I expected, someone told me Roger Junior was little, but it was memorably average. Pete was on the balcony the whole time smoking like a chimney. I think he knew what was up and preferred not to watch."

Nancy blew out a puff of air. "John walked in on me 'n Keith naked. While I was on the phone with my mom."

We laughed.

"Hey, we've got some good stories to tell for posterity." I giggled.

"Yeah, 'cuz we're going to tell our children about that time we fucked The Who." She said sarcastically, sending us both into laughing.   
\- - -  
Nancy dropped me off at my house at about noon.

Surprisingly enough, my mother was awake and waiting for me.

"Where have you been?" She asked, more out of curiosity than the typical 'where have you been, young lady' tone.

"What do you care?" I answered her question with a question, walking upstairs to my room.

"Point taken. Good night." She called after me.

"It's noon!" I called back.

"You're going to sleep aren't you? You look like a ghost. What do you want me to say, good morning?"

"Meh." I waved my hand in dismissal.

I grabbed some cotton shorts and a t-shirt out of my room and sauntered into the bathroom for a hot shower. I felt like a grease bucket.

After I was clean, I climbed into bed, flopped my wet hair over my pillow, pulled the quilt over me, and immediately fell asleep.

I woke up at 6:30 PM, starving to death and insanely thirsty. The summer sun was still streaming through my windows, and I had to pause and ask myself what decade it was.

I pulled my heavy head out of bed and stumbled downstairs to get something to eat and drink, like, a gallon of water.

I poked around in the fridge and found some spaghetti from two days ago. I downed a glass of water while it heated, and then sat down and ate it with a Coke. I stared off into space for a while before finally deciding to go back to my room and sort my clothes.

On my way back upstairs, I eyeballed the phone. I wondered if Roger would call me.


	8. Eight

Janice's POV

I sat in the middle of my floor, clothes everywhere. It looked like there had been a nuclear fashion explosion, and I was its epicenter. On my bedside table, Tommy was playing from my record player.

It had been dark for a while now. Truth be told, it was probably going on midnight if not later. My midday snooze had officially fucked my sleep schedule.

I picked up a pair of jeans that looked oddly small and read the tag. They were a kid's size! Why did I still have them? I shook my head and threw them into the 'donate' pile.

Next was a t-shirt that was an offensive shade of yellowy-green. In big, peeling letters it read 'MARVIN'S AUTO SALES'. I chucked it straight into the trash. Not even a homeless man would be caught wearing that.

I was adding clothes to the 't-shirts I won't wear but are too nice to be thrown out' pile when the phone rang downstairs.

My stomach flipped and my face got hot as I ran to answer it.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hi, Jan, I'm just calling to let you know I'm still alive," came Nancy's voice.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Oh! That's good. You aren't grounded or anything?" I tried to hide my disappointment that it wasn't Roger I was talking to.

"No, somehow. I guess my mom is finally, like, starting to trust me, ya know? 'Bout time, I mean, I'll be nineteen in six months."

I twisted the phone cord up around my fingers and leaned against the wall. One of mom's boyfriends had accidentally broken the little bench that I usually sat on when I talked on the phone.

"That's true. You're not a baby anymore." There was silence on the line for a moment. "Hey, I'm going through my closet because I can't sleep. If you want to do the same, we can run it all to The Salvation Army tomorrow if you're down with it."

"Sure!" Said Nancy. "I know for sure I have some shoes that don't fit anymore. If we go to the one in Davidstown, we can get lunch at that little deli. Like, make a day out of it or something."

"Sounds good. What time?" I closed my eyes, making a wish that she wouldn't say something ridiculously early.

"If I pick you up at noon, we can drop everything off and eat around one."

Okay, not too bad at all.

"Groovy, Trudy. See you then!" I unwound the phone cord from my hand. It was starting to cut off my circulation.

"Later, alligator. And don't call me Trudy!" We laughed, and I hung up the phone.

Back in my room, I finished sorting my clothes, but I still wasn't too terribly tired. I realized that if Nancy was going to pick me up at noon, I needed to get some sleep.

When I was younger and couldn't sleep, my mom would slip me a Tylenol. So I took two, and within twenty minutes had sailed away to dreamland.

When I woke, it was barely light outside. My alarm clock read 7:21 AM.

Dammit, I'm never going to sleep normally again, I thought to myself.

I hopped out of bed and went downstairs for a trash bag and a packet of strawberry Pop-Tarts.

Out of curiosity, I peeked into the basement. My mom was snoring softly. Speaking of destroyed sleep schedules, it was hard telling when she'd get up.

I went back upstairs and jumped onto my bed, ripping open my Pop-Tarts and eating them un-toasted. I threw the foil packet into my bedside wastebasket, then shook out the large trash bag I had brought up and began stuffing clothes into it.

When I was almost finished, I got a creeping feeling, like someone was behind me. I turned around and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw my mom standing in the doorway.

"Could you have picked a better time to shake out a trash bag in the loudest way possible?" She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. "And you sound like a herd of elephants when you walk. I have a hangover, keep it down."

"You always have a hangover," I deadpanned.

Mom stared at me with empty eyes. "Whatever."

"Well, while you're up here, I'll let you know I'm going to The Salvation Army to donate some of my old clothes with Nancy and then we're getting lunch." I tied the top of the bag shut.

"Good for you," my mom said. She patted the doorframe and sauntered off.

I rolled my eyes. And Nancy thought her mom was insufferable! At least hers knew which way was up.

Noon crawled around eventually, and the unmistakable sound of the beetle bug's horn came from the driveway.

I hefted my bag over my shoulder like Santa Claus and waddled down the stairs slowly, trying not to trip and kill myself.

"Hey!" Nancy said. She had gotten out of the car and pushed her seat forward so I could cram my bag in next to hers in the backseat.

"Hi!" We got in the car and started on our way. "Have you gotten any sleep?" I asked her.

"Sort of? My mom didn't let me go to bed until, like, 8 PM after we got back. She said she didn't want me sleeping through the day." She made a disgusted noise. "But I woke up a couple hours later and that's when I called you."

"Probably for the best, I slept from the time we got back to, like, 6, and now I'm all out of sorts." I shook my head.

"You know what's got me all out of sorts?" She asked.

"What?"

"That we had an earth-shattering experience with The Who."

"Ah! I know!" I squealed. "I can hardly believe it wasn't a dream or a trip or something!"

We both blushed, relating the story to each other even though we had both been there for it.

"Ah, I'm sweating!" I giggled, dramatically fanning my armpits. "I always sweat when I talk about them!"

"I know! How'd you, like, not do that when you slept with Roger? I mean, if just talking about him makes you sweat." Nancy pulled into The Salvation Army parking lot.

"I don't know. I guess it just felt so much like a dream. Good thing, though, because I don't think he would've liked me near as much if I'd pit-sweated all over him."

We shrieked with laughter, the kind where you stop for a second but then lose it all over again when you look at each other. We wrestled our donations out of the backseat and took them in.

"Hi, we brought you some threads!" I announced cheerily to the woman behind the counter.

"Great! You can just sit them down right where you are. Peter! Come and take care of these donations, will you?" She said.

A young boy of probably about seventeen appeared from behind a rack of coats, flipping his long hair out of his eyes and smiling at Nancy and me.

"How're you ladies doing?" He asked politely as he loaded our bags onto a cart.

"Good," we said at the same time.

"That's good!" He pushed the cart away and disappeared behind a set of double doors.

"Alright, here's your receipt for proof of donation. Thank you girls!" The woman handed us each a slip of paper.

We walked out of the store and got back into the car. Next stop, deli.


	9. Nine

**Nancy's POV**

Jan and I were sitting outside eating our sandwiches on the curb when we heard the meowing.

"Did you just hear a cat?" She asked me. "Like, a baby cat?"

"I did. I wonder where it's coming from?" I asked.

"A cat, I would imagine." Jan said flatly.

"Obviously." I smacked her playfully. "I mean, where _is_ the cat?"

"I dunno. Here, pinch me a piece of your salami and we'll see if we can lure it over."

I tore off a bit of salami from my sandwich and handed it to her.

"Heeeeere, kitty kitty!" She called, flailing the salami around.

"Kitty kitty kitty!" I contributed.

Eventually, a tiny orange kitten tottered over to us.

"Wow! Look, how cute!" I easily convinced the kitten into letting me pick it up.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Jan asked me.

"Hmm. Uh, boy, I think! Aw, aren't you just a handsome little man!" I rubbed the kittens head and it purred softly.

"You've gotta convince your mom to let you bring it home!" My friend exclaimed.

"You're totally right! Here, hold him for, like, just a minute. I'm going to call her off that pay phone there. You got any dimes?"

Janice took the kitten in one hand and poked around her pocket with the other.

"Here you go, there ought to be enough here." She handed me a palmful of change.

"Thanks, I'll be right back."

I grabbed up the phone and dialed the house. My mother picked up immediately.

"Hello?"

"Hi mom! I'm okay, I'm calling you because me and Jan found a kitten at the deli. He's the cutest little thing and I know we've been talking about getting a cat, so can I bring him home?" I explained in one breath.

"You found a kitten and you want to bring him home?" My mom repeated.

"Yeah, he's so cute! I'll take care of him and scoop his litter box and everything. Can I please bring him home?" I tapped my foot nervously.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'm sure your dad will be okay with it since we have been talking about getting a cat anyways."

I squealed. "Thank you, mom! Thank you so much! We're coming home right now!"

I hung up the phone and galloped back to Janice.

"My mom said I could keep him!" I whooped.

"Great! We're going to have to think of a name for him. And of course I'm going to be his godmother." She held the kitten up like a trophy.

"Mew!" Said the kitten, kicking his little back legs.

"Oh, sorry," Jan said, "didn't mean to scare ya."

"Come on, let's go back to my house and get him settled."

We were watching the kitten walk around the living room when I thought of his name.

"Ringo!" I exclaimed happily.

"What about him?" Asked Janice.

"That's what we're going to name the kitty!" I clapped my hands. "Ringo."

"As in Starr? Nance, you can't name a cat after a Beatle. That's gotta be some kind of copyright infringement." She shook her head slightly.

"I think it's a purrrrfect name. What do you think, little Ringo?"

The kitten threw itself down onto its back, wiggling around in the carpet as adorably as anything.

Janice giggled. "Alright. Ringo it is. Hey, I have to go home. But maybe tomorrow night I can come sleep over?"

"Sure. We can play with Ringo all night. I'll take you home."

I plopped the kitty in the bathroom and shut the door so he couldn't escape.

"Mom, I'm taking Jan home and then stopping at the pet supply to get some cat things! I'll be back in, like, 45!" I called.

"Okay, be safe!"  
\- - -  
 **Janice's POV**

When I got home, the phone was ringing. I sprinted over to it and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Janice!"

 _Oh, my god, it's Roger,_ I thought to myself.

"Oh, hi, Roger! I didn't expect you to actually call." I slid down the wall on to the floor. We really needed a new bench.

"Why wouldn't I? It would only be right to at _least_ make sure you got home in one piece. I called at about one, but there wasn't any answer and it made me nervous." He chuckled slightly.

"Oh! Sorry I worried you. I was with Nancy getting lunch. I would've been home sooner but we found a baby kitten." I blushed and stuck my finger into the loops of the phone cord.

"You don't have to apologize!" He exclaimed. "But do tell me about this kitten."

I could practically hear his smile through the phone.

"Well, he's the cutest thing! He's orange and white. A tabby, I think. He's so small."

"Aww. And what's his name?"

My heart leapt. I couldn't believe Roger was actually interested in my life.

"You're going to think this is ridiculous, but I didn't come up with it." I prefaced. "It's Ringo."

Roger laughed a genuine laugh, and I put my arm over my head like I was protecting it from falling objects, for some reason.

"As in Starr?" He balked. "Isn't that some sort of copyright violation?"

I raised my eyebrows. "That's exactly what I said! Almost verbatim, actually. But Nancy said it's 'purrrfect'." I rolled my tongue on the r.

"That's adorable."

"Oh, nah," I blushed, "where's the band now?"

"Chicago, Illinois. The Windy City." He said it sort of like a game show host, making me laugh.

"That's pretty groovy. I'd like to visit Chicago sometime and try that deep dish pizza." I stuck my finger back into the phone cord.

"It's a nice place, what I've seen of it. Maybe we could go sometime when I'm not touring and we can actually take our time and enjoy it."

My stomach turned. "You'd take me to Chicago?" I gaped.

"I don't see why not," he said nonchalantly, "I already know I like your company, and if you want to go and I want to see more of it, why go with someone else?"

"No offense, Rog, but you're sort of Looney Tunes for that. You barely know me!" I gave the phone cord a particularly hard squeeze, which left squiggly imprints in my palm.

"That's the point, love, is to get to know you better."

I started to say something, but was cut off by Pete shouting in the background.

"Roger, you wanker, get off the bleedin' blower, we've got a show in four hours!"

I giggled. "Sounds like you better jam."

"It does, doesn't it? I'll talk to you later, Janice! Goodbye!" He made a smooching sound into the phone, which made me blush yet again, if I'd ever stopped to begin with.

"Bye, Roger..."

_Click._

I hung the phone up and wandered upstairs to look for something to do.


	10. Ten

**Janice's POV**

I decided to make Ringo some toys to take over when I went to Nancy's that morning.

After rooting around in the floor of my closet for a bit, I came up with some yarn from my days of trying to crochet. I brought it up to my bed and set to work on making some little pom-poms with it. About 45 minutes later, I had three fuzzy new cat toys and a pile of yarn clippings in front of me.

I tossed the clippings into my wastebasket and the pom-poms into my purse.

The house was eerily quiet. My mom was gone when I had arrived home from Nancy's last night and she still wasn't back. This wasn't terribly unusual, but the quiet always made me uneasy. I decided to put on a record.

After a moment's consideration, I settled on Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys. I usually listened to Pet Sounds while cleaning my room, so it put me in the mood to tidy up as soon as it began to play. I didn't have much cleaning to do, though, so I hung up the few clothes laying on the floor, made my bed, and then flopped down on it.

I looked at my watch. It was nearly time for Nancy to pick me up, so I slithered off my bed like a little slug to go get dressed. I pulled on a pair of yellow shorts with a big tortoise shell button on the front and a plain navy blue t-shirt. Unsatisfied with my reflection, I pulled the shirt off and scanned my room for a pair of scissors.

With a now-satisfied smile, I hacked off the bottom half of the shirt and put it back on. My belly button peeked over the waistline of my shorts. Much better.

Downstairs, the phone rang. I jogged down the steps to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Janice Smith?" The woman on the line asked.

"Uh, yes. May I ask who's speaking?" My heart sped up, something wasn't sitting right here.

"Yes ma'am, this is Our Lady of Grace hospital. Janice, we've got your mother and she isn't doing well. You need to come in quickly. As soon as possible."

I put my hand over my mouth in shock.

"Okay. Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

I hung the phone up and then grabbed it again, dialing Nancy. Tears flowed down my face.

"Hello?" It was Nancy's mother who answered.

"Edith, hi," I croaked, "has Nancy left yet?"

"Just now. Janice, are you alright? It sounds like you're crying."

A sob burst out of my mouth, and I covered the receiver with my hand, pressing my back against the wall. It's always worse when someone asks you if you're okay.

"No!" I cried. "I just got a ca-all from the h-hospital and they said my mo-o-m's not doing too good."

"Oh, sweetheart. Which hospital?" Edith cooed supportively.

"Our Lady of Grace." I wiped my nose.

"I'll meet you and Nancy there. I love you, Janice. Be the strong young lady I know you are."

"I love you too. Thank you, Edith."

I hung up and paced the floor until Nancy arrived.

When she pulled in, I ran to her car before she could make it all the way up the driveway.

"Christ, Jan, you cut off the bottom of your shirt!" She exclaimed.

"I kn-o-ow." I wailed.

Nancy looked at me funny. "It's not that big a deal, we can get you another."

"No, it's not that." I wiped my face with the back of my hand. "My mom's in Our Lady of Grace. We need to get there, like, now."

"Shit." Nancy swore. She threw the bug into reverse and put us on the road, speeding towards the hospital.

Her mom was standing in the parking lot next to her car, and we parked in the space next to her. She immediately hugged me tight when we got out and walked me into the hospital with an arm protectively around my shoulder.

"Can you please tell me where Helen Smith is? This is her daughter, Janice, and I'm her aunt, Helen's sister." Edith winked at me slyly. If mom was in any state to have visitors, they'd probably only let family back, and I wanted to have Edith with me.

The nurse behind the desk shuffled some papers around.

"She's in the ICU. No visitors allowed, but you're welcome to sit in the waiting room and wait for the doctor to update you." She gestured to some chairs.

We sat down and waited for what seemed like hours. Nancy and I sat back to back on a bench, supporting each other's weight. Edith occasionally patted my head or squeezed my hand. Eventually, a young-looking, grim-faced doctor appeared. I stood.

"Janice?" He asked, smiling softly.

"Yes?" I wrung my hands, shifting my weight from foot to foot. "What's wrong with her?"

The doctor's face turned grim again. "She's in liver failure. It seems that years of excessive alcohol consumption have caught up to her."

"Liver failure?" I repeated, grabbing Nancy's shoulder and sitting back down.

The doctor nodded. "I don't know any other way to tell you this, but unfortunately, it doesn't look like she's going to make it."

I burst into sobs, and Nancy and Edith wrapped me in a hug from both sides.

"I'm sorry." Said the doctor. "You can go see her if you want, but I must warn you, she doesn't look good and she's currently in a coma. I'm sorry."

I stood up on shaky feet, my hand clutching Nancy's.

The doctor slowly shook his head.

"Just you." He said. "Only one at a time."

Nancy and I looked at each other, and I nodded slightly. She let go of my hand, and the doctor led me back.

My mother passed away at 3:57pm. The sun was shining when she went.


	11. Eleven

**Janice's POV**

That night was a blur. Nancy and her mother took me home to get some of my things. While we were there, Roger called.

I told him what had happened. He listened to me cry, and then I gave him Nancy's number. He said he would call me there as soon as he could.

Edith offered to move me into the guest room, but I didn't want to be alone. Instead, I opted to squeeze onto Nancy's twin bed with her, and Nancy being the amazing friend she is, was glad to have me.

We laid on the skinny mattress together. Nancy had herself protectively wrapped around me, one hand rolling the cut edge of my t-shirt back and forth between her fingers.

"What'd you do that for?" She whispered.

"Fashion." I replied, melancholy.

"Looks good. Just different. New and unexpected, I guess."

Silence loomed over us again for a few moments until Ringo started crying to be put in the bed with us. I leaned over and scooped him up, letting him curl his tiny body under my chin.

We fell asleep like that, wearing our day clothes and laying on top of the blankets, the lights blazing.

I jumped awake from a nightmare about two hours later. The jolt woke Nancy, too.

"What time is it?" She asked, her eyes still closed against the blinding overhead light.

"I dunno. We fell asleep in our clothes, come on, let's put on our pajamas and go under the blankets."

Nancy groaned and put her hand over her face, letting her eyes adjust to the light.

Slowly and sleepily, we undressed and put our pajamas on. Nance flipped the light out and we burrowed under the covers, cuddling close. Ringo splatted out on a pillow above our heads and purred quietly.

In one day, my life had been completely turned upside down—and I had no plan B.

\- - -

**Roger's POV**

I worried about Janice all night.

The boys knew there was something wrong with me, it must've been written all over my face.

"What is it now, Rog?" John had asked gruffly.

"It's Janice—" I began, but he cut me off.

"You're still hung up on that little girl? C'mon, I've never seen you so hung up on a burd y've met all'a once."

"Her mother's passed away, John." I shot bitterly. "Her mother's passed away and I don't think she's got anyone else but the girl she was with when we met her. And she's too young yet to be completely on her own. She didn't even have time to prepare." I sat down on the edge of the low table in our hotel room and ran my hands over my hair.

"Roger, I hate to sound like an arse here, but that innit your problem to deal with. We've got bigger fish to fry than a little girl with a dead mother." John shook his head and pulled a cigarette out of his breast pocket, lighting it up.

I jumped to my feet, seething.

"That's horrible of you. That's really fucking horrible of you." I stepped towards him, which made him take a step back. "Her fucking _mother_ is _dead_ , John, I don't care if I'd never even met her, I'd still be upset if _anyone's_ mother had died because that's basic fucking human decency."

"Hey, take it easy..." John looked down and eyeballed me warily, smoke curling from between his lips. I might not be the biggest of men, but I can whoop an arse any day.

"And stop calling her a little girl!" I exclaimed. "She's a woman. You're making me sound like a bloody pedo. Is that what you think of me, John? You think I'm a filthy pedo? Huh?" I raised my hand and watched as he flinched away before I even had the chance to strike.

Pete burst out of the bathroom then.

"Daltrey! Back the fuck up and sit the fuck down. And Enty, you're a sorry excuse for a human being. Now please, I'm trying to have a shit in peace and I can't do that if you're about to kill each other."

He disappeared back into the loo and slammed the door shut.

"I'm going to take a walk." I spat. I headed for the door, but then whirled around and stamped on John's very expensive shoe for good measure.

"Ow! Hey, this shoe costs more than you're worth, Daltrey!"

I scoffed and stalked out into the hallway. I needed to go downstairs and find a phone.

This was a pretty easy task, and I dialed the number Janice had given me.

"Hello?" She croaked. Her voice sounded hoarse, like she'd been sleeping or crying. Or both.

"Oh, I didn't wake you, did I, love?"

"Huh-uh, no, but I haven't been awake long at all, maybe about fifteen minutes or so." Her American accent had a hint of southern twang playing around its edges, which I found to be mesmerizing.

"Okay, good. What time is it there?" I sat on the little metal bench by the phone.

"Quarter past nine in the morning. How bout for you? Where're you at today?" She yawned into the receiver.

"I'm in Minneapolis, it's aaaa," I scanned the room for a clock, "quarter past eight here. An hour earlier exactly."

"What're you doing up so early?" She balked.

"It wasn't my idea, it was Pete's. But honestly I couldn't sleep anyways because I was worried about you. Are you okay? Do you have a place to stay? I know you planned on going to university, are you still going to be able to do that?" My questions tumbled out one after the other.

Janice sighed. "Yeah, I'm with Nance and her mom and dad right now. I'm not feeling so good, but I'll be alright. As for school, I hadn't even thought about that yet. I guess it'll have to wait until I have the money now. My mom was saving up to help me pay half, but she didn't put the money in the bank because she doesn't trust banks. I have no idea where that money is. Or if it ever existed to begin with, really."

I could hear the stress mounting in her voice.

"I'm sorry, Jan, I didn't mean to get you thinking about all that." I sighed heavily, thinking myself.

"Who're you talking to, sweetie?" I heard a woman's voice on Janice's end.

"It's, uhhhhh," she drawled, "someone. I'll tell you after I'm off the phone."

I chuckled.

"Janice," I began, "do you wanna do something crazy?"

"Depends." She replied.

"This leg of the tour ends in three days and doesn't begin again until the 25th. Would you like to run away to Chicago with me for a bit?"


	12. Twelve

**Janice's POV**

The phone receiver slipped out of my hand and clattered to the floor. The sound shocked me out of my shock and I scrambled to pick it back up. It was all quite shocking.

"Is everything alright? Hello?" Came Roger's voice.

"Yeah, sorry, I dropped ya," I breathed.

"So Chicago in three days?" He asked.

"Yes! I would like that very much." Out of nowhere, tears sprung to my eyes. I had so much going on at once that it was making my head spin.

"Okay then, beautiful. I'll call you once I get the details worked out!" Excitement ran through his voice like a fudge ribbon in your favorite ice cream.

"Okay. See you later, alligator," I smiled as tears dripped down my face.

"After while, crocodile!" He finished.

"Real soon, Daniel Boone," I added.

We laughed, and he hung up the phone. I held the receiver in my hands and cried as the dial tone played through it.

"Oh, honey, are you okay?" Edith asked me as she came into the room.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm cool. I know it doesn't look like it, I'm just feeling a lot of things and now I'm crying," I giggled.

"Okay..." Edith said, not looking any less concerned, "who was that on the phone?"

"Oh." I put the phone back up on the wall. "God, okay. It was Roger Daltrey."

Edith stared at me blankly. "Who?"

"The, uh, frontman for that band me and Nance really like. The Who." My face was beet red.

Nancy came into the room then, listening to the conversation.

"The band you girls just saw?" Edith asked.

"Yes'm." I twiddled the ends of my hair.

"And the frontman is calling you on the phone." She grabbed a chair and sat down.

"So it seems." I said quietly. "And he's just invited me to go to Chicago with him in three days."

"Holy shit!" Nancy yelled, smiling broadly.

" _Nancy_!" Her mother scolded. "You may be grown, but you still live in my house, and I will wash your mouth out with soap, young lady."

The smile disappeared off her face like a magic act and her eyes widened. "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry," she repeated.

Edith ignored her and turned back to me. "Honey, I don't know how much I can advise you to go to Chicago with a rockstar...and your mother's funeral is in two days' time already."

I sighed and smacked my hand to my forehead, then pulled it down my face. "I know this sounds cuckoo, but I really trust him and I don't think he's going to hurt me or kidnap me or anything, and I'd really like to go."

"Well, I'm not your mother, so I suppose I can't stop you. What would she have said?" She asked, smiling kindly.

"She would've let me go. She was crazy like that." I chuckled sadly.

Over in her corner, Nancy piped up, "Oh, wow. So I can't say 'shit' but Jan can go, like, nine hours away to Chicago with Roger Daltrey, yeah that all checks out perfectly."

"Really, Nancy Grace?" Edith arched her eyebrow.

"Whatever." Nancy stalked out the backdoor into the backyard.

"Who spit in her Froot Loops?" I muttered.

Edith laughed. "I don't know, but you know just as well as I do that sometimes she wakes up on the wrong side of the bed and that's that."

"And we love her anyways." I added.

"And I love you, little lady." She rose from her chair and hugged me. "I couldn't bear it if anything bad happened to you or Nancy. You're my girls. But I understand you're growing up, and I really don't have the jurisdiction to make decisions for you especially."

"Well I don't want to make you upset," I looked at the floor.

"Oh, honey. Just go. Go and have fun. But please call as often as you can. It'll help me worry less." Edith smiled softly.

"Okay. I will, I promise. Thanks a bunch." I gave her another hug and then went outside after Nancy.

I found her sitting under a tree. She was leaned up against the back side of it, so I didn't see her at first.

"Hey!" I called once I saw her bare foot sticking out. "Would you like to get your head out of your ass and talk?"

Nancy peered around the tree, strands of her blonde hair sticking to the bark.

"I guess." She said flatly.

I plopped down in the grass beside her and immediately started pulling blades of it up. It's impossible to sit in the grass and not pull it up, I think.

"Why're you acting like a child?" I asked, straight to the point. I shredded up a clover and let it blow away in the wind.

"Because!" Nancy began, her lip trembling and her voice tight. "Because, like, I dunno! Because I'm all hormonal for some reason, and I think I'm about to start my period, and now you live in my house, and you're going to Chicago with Roger fucking Daltrey, and my mother is a freak, and, like, I dunno, man! I dunno." She cried like a baby, even digging her heels into the ground as if she were a toddler having a tantrum.

I just let her get it all out, though it was hard not to laugh.

"Are you done?" I asked once she had mostly stopped.

"Yeah," she wiped her face, "and I'm glad you're going on that trip with Roger. It'll be really groovy. Like, really super cool. Do you want to go make cookies?"

"Sure!" We stood up and swatted the grass off our legs and then headed inside.

"Alright, you're the chef," Nancy said once we were in the kitchen.

"Okay, does your mother still have the Betty Crocker book?" I opened the cabinet and started looking for it. "Oh, and go ahead and set the oven for 375°."

I pulled down the big, red Betty Crocker cookbook that everyone seemed to have in their house and Nancy preheated the oven.

"Alright, bring me a medium sized mixing bowl, please." I asked as I pulled out Edith's big Tupperware of flour and the matching smaller one of sugar. "Oh, shoot, we didn't soften the butter!"

Nancy pulled the two sticks of butter out of my hand and sat them on top of the warm oven.

"Smart." I noted.

Within an hour, we were surrounded by three dozen small chocolate chip cookies cooling on the countertops.

"Wow, sure smells good in here!" Edith said upon walking into the kitchen. "Goodness, you've got enough for an army!"

Nancy and I giggled.

"I think I'm going to bring some to Roger." I collected several from the first batch that had already cooled and put them in a ziplock bag. "Aren't these just the niftiest things?"

"When they zip right, yes." Nancy said.

I laughed. "That's true."

The three of us stood in the kitchen for a while, eating warm cookies and talking about ziplock bags. Eventually Nancy's father came in and joined us, and for the first time in a couple of days, I felt normal.


	13. thirteen

**Janice's POV**

You almost want it to rain when there's a funeral. It seems unfair for the sky to be blue when you're feeling so gray.

There weren't very many people in attendance. It was only me, Nancy and her family, and a handful of my family members. Most of my mom's friends were too coked up or drunk or both to come, but a couple did. They smelled like liquor and it made me angry. Liquor is what took my mother away.

Maybe she wasn't the best mom, but she was my mom, and that's grounds to be upset, I think.

The service was short, and afterwards we went to a church I had been to once as a kid for the reception. There were cold ham sandwiches and cheese cubes to pick at and a pitcher of sweet tea.

I was staring into space and nibbling at a cheese cube with my front two teeth like a bunny when Nancy poked my arm and asked if I wanted to go outside.

We grabbed each other's hands and ran out the doors of the church, kicking our sandals into the grass as soon as we got outside.

We padded through the grass hand in hand, and my itchy dark purple dress tickled behind my knees.

"You stoked for tomorrow?" Nance asked me once we stopped walking. We were in the middle of the field beside the church.

"So beyond. Are you gonna come to my house with me and help me pack?" I scrunched my toes in the grass, dust from the dry ground working its way between them.

"Of course. Got any outfits planned?" Nancy let go of my hand and shook out her shiny blonde hair.

"Uh, I'm for sure bringing the one I wore to the concert. I think I'll bring the yellow shorts with the button, but I don't know what top with that. Other than that, no idea." I shrugged.

"Ooh, you could bring that, like, two piece with the funky pattern on it. The shirt and skirt set?" She suggested.

"Oh, I forgot about that set. Yeah, I'll for sure bring that. Ah! And the corduroy overall dress."

We gabbed about clothes until Edith shouted that we were leaving.

Back at my house, it was quiet. I turned the key and opened the door to let Nance and I in and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding when everything looked the same as it did when I left it.

I don't know why I thought it would be any different.

We went up to my room and flopped down on my bed.

"Oh, I have something for you! For the trip." Nancy sat up and grabbed her purse, rifling around in it and then pulling out some fabric. "Here. For you."

I held out the delicate white bra. The cups were made of sheer netting, and there was a brown and orange butterfly embroidered over where each nipple would be.

The white satin shorts followed, with matching butterflies embroidered on the hemline in little clusters of two or three.

"Oh, wow." I breathed.

"I made them myself," my best friend blushed.

"Wow," I repeated, "it's beautiful. Really. When did you do this?"

"While you were asleep. It's the fastest I've ever made something, like, ever. And I had to use mom's sewing machine without her seeing what I was making."

We laughed, and I clutched the lingerie in my hand.

"One more thing!" She dug around in her purse again and then flung something at me like a slingshot.

"Jinkies!" I jumped. "Oh, god, what is this?" I held up the skimpy item.

"That would be a thong. I didn't make that, I got it from Pennys."

I blushed and hugged her around the neck.

"Thank you, Nance. I love it." I laid the pieces out and admired them.

"Roger's going to love it, too. Tell him I said 'you're welcome.'" She slugged me playfully in the shoulder.

"Shut up!" I slugged her back, and we laughed like hyenas, play wrestling on my bed.

Nancy fell off and landed in the floor with a yell.

"Oh shit, are you good?" I asked.

"Yeah. Hey what's this in your trash? Looks like you skinned a muppet." She poked at the fuzz in my trash can.

"Oh! That's, uh, hang on," now it was my turn to grab my purse, "I made these for Ringo the morning my mom died. I guess I forgot to give them to you."

I handed her the puffballs.

"How cute!" She exclaimed, climbing back onto the bed. "He's gonna love them. He'll probably, like, destroy them, but he'll love them!"

"It's no big deal if he tears them up, I can make more really fast. They're easy." I waved my hand dismissively.

"Cool beans! Alright, back to packing."

We crammed all of my best threads into my avocado green suitcase, including my favorite shoes. There was not a single day where I wouldn't look my best. Even my pajamas were beautiful and sexy, as I had packed some of my mother's satin nightgowns. She certainly wouldn't be needing them, so I figured it was alright.

"Are you ready to go back to my house?" Nancy asked once we had finished. "Anything else you need from here?"

"I'm ready to go." I grabbed my suitcase and lugged it down the stairs, half carrying it and half dragging it.

She helped me load it into the funny little front trunk of her beetle and we went back to her house.

I couldn't sleep that night, opting instead for tossing and turning so much that Nancy kicked me out into the floor, throwing a pillow down there with me.

"Do you want me to be able to drive you to the airport in the morning?" she had hissed.

"Sorry." I whispered back. I rolled across the floor like a disgruntled sausage and pulled down the quilt that hung over the back of her desk chair, rolling up in it and back to the pillow.

Eventually, wrapped in the quilt like an infant, I fell asleep.


	14. fourteen

**Roger's POV**

The taxi ride to the airport was quiet. Silent, misty fog hung over the city of Chicago like a blanket. It would almost definitely clear once the sun had finished coming up.

I stepped into the airport and made my way to Janice's gate, scuffing my shoe back and forth against the floor like a giddy schoolboy. Through the big windows, I could see her plane rolling towards me.

Slowly, people began to trickle through the gate. They all had tired eyes. Some were carrying suitcases, others were carrying sleeping children. Most of them carried paper cups of coffee.

And then there was Janice. Her brown hair tangled around her shoulders, her eyes swollen and puffy from both sleep and a lack of it, and dragging her suitcase clumsily beside her. She was the most stunningly beautiful thing I had ever seen.

"Roger!" She called, beaming. In her haste to get to me, she tripped over her suitcase. She stumbled forward a few steps, but managed to catch herself.

I laughed and said her name, rushing to help her with her things.

"Oh, love," I began as I lifted up her luggage with ease, "I don't mean to laugh. I don't. But you're a trip. Quite literally, this morning."

She hooked her arm around my free one, leaning into me and smiling.

"What do you mean?" She asked with a giggle.

"Mm?" I looked down at her.

"You always say I'm a trip! What's that supposta mean?"

"Just that you are." I answered vaguely. "You're just different from any other girl I've ever met. In a good way, of course."

She blushed. "Well thanks, then." And slid her hand down my arm and into my hand, lacing our fingers together. I gave it a squeeze.

"Say, why aren't people swarming the famous guy in the airport?" She asked.

I shrugged. "Eh. For every person that knows who I am, there's another hundred that don't, and another fifty who do but can't be bothered."

"That's fair." She seemed satisfied with my answer. "But I'm always bothered by you." She smiled rather stupidly up at me, like a little girl.

"What's—" I started, confused.

"Oh! Er, ugh, not that I'm _bothered_ by you, but, like, more like you bother me."

I stared at her, fighting back laughter.

"Or not that you bother me. But. It's like. I'm bothered by your presence. Well, no, that's not right either. You—ugh. Roger, you make me hot and bothered, alright?"

The laughter finally escaped, and I cackled out across the building. Janice couldn't have been any redder.

"Stop that!" She cried. "You stop it right now! You see, this is exactly what I mean!" She stamped her foot and buried her face into my arm.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I apologized once I had gotten a handle on myself. "Jan, for what it's worth, you make me hot and bothered, too."

"Yeah, I better." She muttered, grinning.

I just shook my head, putting her luggage in the trunk of our waiting taxi and opening the back door for her. I told the driver where we were going and we were off.

"What happened to your car?" She asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Pete had to run some errands last night and he still isn't back. Hard telling what he's got himself into." I sighed.

"Oh." Janice said. "So then you've all just got the one car between you."

"Well, Pete has his own car back home. And I have two other cars back home. Bit of an auto guy, I am. But I keep a car here in the States because it seems like I'm here quite some bit lately. I've got an old chum that lets me keep it in his shed for free, and free is cheaper than a rental car every time I take the leap across the pond. Then the only trouble is getting it to me, but that's still better than dealing with a rental."

"Well that's smart of you." Jan commented. "I hope Pete brings it back today." She snuggled her head against my shoulder.

"I'm sure he will, he's quite responsible, all things considered." I wrapped my arm around her and rubbed her shoulder.

When we arrived at the hotel, I had to nudge her awake. She roused with such a jump that I was half afraid she was going to scream.

"Oh!" She said, putting her hand on her chest. "Oh, I forgot where a was for a sec, ha."

"Sorry, lovely. Are you alright?" I leaned up and paid the driver.

"Yeah, totally groovy."

I ushered us into the hotel.

"Hungry?" I asked.

"Starved." She replied.

I led us into the hotel breakfast, setting her bag down by a table for two. The place was completely empty, as it was so early in the morning. With the excitement of a child, she scurried to the food and began filling a plate. I followed behind her, grabbing an orange and a few pieces of bacon.

By the time my toast popped up and I sat down, Jan was tucking into her food.

"A donut _and_ French toast?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Only God can judge me, Rog." She took a long swig of her orange juice.

"Where did you hear such a phrase?" I chuckled.

"Well, when I was a kid, my mom couldn't afford nursery school. So she sent me to Sunday school instead, because it's free. And they taught us there that only God can judge us, and that really, like, stuck to me, I guess." She shrugged and licked some powdered sugar off her lips.

"Wow. You are—"

"A trip, I know." She smiled at me, and my heart turned a somersault.

We ate our breakfast in lighthearted conversation. Janice swung her legs as we talked, gently kicking her suitcase with every swing. It was things like that that made me enjoy my time with her so much. Her childish habits made me feel young, too, and it was a nice way to feel.


	15. fifteen

**Janice's POV**

After we finished eating, we went up to the hotel room we were staying in.

Naturally, the rest of the boys had decided to spend some extra time in Chicago, too, but only for a couple days. Their room was near ours. The poor guys had tripled up to save some cash, and the thought made me laugh.

"What's funny?" Roger asked. He was sitting behind me on the bed playing with my hair.

"I was just thinkin' about Pete and John and Keith all canoodling each other in their one hotel room." Saying it out loud made me laugh again, but harder this time.

Roger chuckled. "I don't know how much of your 'canoodling' will take place, but I'm sure there will be something, and I'm sure we'll hear all about it."

"I can't wait." I stated, smiling.

Rog then brought some of my long hair around my shoulder for me to see.

"Look!" He said proudly.

A random portion of my hair had been twisted into a sloppy, loose braid.

"Wow, that's impressive!" I said, half sarcastic and half genuinely impressed.

He made a proud little scoffing noise and then let go of my hair. I felt the braid fall apart as I turned around to face him. He smiled at me, cocking his head to one side like a puppy. He did that kind of a lot, and it never got any less precious.

"You're so beautiful," I grinned.

"No, you." He poked my chest.

"No, you." I shoved his chest.

"No! You!" He pushed me over.

"Hey! I said _you're_ beautiful!" I sat up and jumped on him, tackling him back against the pillows.

And then we started making out. You know how it is.

I was left lying on his chest, panting softly, twiddling one of his curls between my fingers.

"Can we take a nap? I'm beat." I asked.

"Sure, I could use a nap." He rolled me off of him, pulled off his shirt, and we wiggled under the blankets.

I fell asleep with my face pressed against his bare chest, drinking him in with every breath.

We slept for hours, for when we woke up, it was almost three in the afternoon. I opened my eyes to find Roger staring at me.

I made a startled noise and blinked at him.

"What're you looking at? What time is it?" I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and yawned, turning my head to the side to spare him my breath, which was undoubtedly questionable.

"I'm looking at you, love. You're like a sweet little angel when you sleep. Like a little cherub!" He booped me on the nose, causing me to snort.

"Right." I said.

"Oh, and it's a quarter to." He rose from the bed and stretched broadly. I shamelessly raked my eyes over his topless body, watching a muscle quiver as he reached his arms into the air.

"A quarter till _what_?" I asked.

"Three." He was bending over forward now, as if to touch his toes. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Maybe, let me finish waking up." I yawned again, then swung my legs out of the bed, stepping into the bathroom to get a drink.

"Put on something pretty, darling, and we'll go walk around for a bit. Maybe something to eat will jump at us." Roger called.

"Alright!" I returned. I crammed a piece of Juicy Fruit gum into my mouth.

I began to rummage through my suitcase, pulling out bits of clothes.

"What is that _smell_?" Rog balked from behind me.

"What smell?" I cast an unwanted pair of shorts to the wayside.

He grabbed me by the shoulders, turning me around. "Open your mouth," he commanded, grabbing my chin.

Confused, I complied.

"Is that Juicy Fruit?" He marveled at the wad of yellow in my mouth.

"Ah hah," I responded, mouth still open.

He released his hold on me. "I don't know how you could stand to chew that stuff."

"What do you mean? It's just gum." I selected a pair of blue and white pinstriped canvas pants and a white peasant top.

"Gum should be mint flavored. Or clove. Not bloody banana or whatever that is." He was tying his shoes.

"You chew _clove_ gum?" I dropped my pants to the floor and Roger leaned over from his seat on the edge of the bed to smack my hind end.

"Yeah, 'course I do."

"That's horrible. If you can chew _clove gum_ I can chew Juicy Fruit."

"Oh, whatever."

There was a tremendous banging at the door then, and we scurried to finish getting dressed. I opened the door to find Keith standing there.

"Oh, uh, hi Keith!" I greeted him.

"Hello!" He pushed past me into the room. "Lovely to see you again, Janet. You do clean up well."

"Thanks, but it's Janice," I giggled.

"I knew that. 'Course I did. This one never shuts up about ya." He patted Roger tenderly on the cheek. "Is that Juicy Fruit? Can I have a piece?"

"Sure!" I laughed. I poked around for another piece and handed it to him. Roger just shook his head.

"What're you lot getting into?" Keith asked, smacking his gum.

"We're going to go walk around and see if we can pin down something to eat. We've been asleep most of the day." I explained.

"Me too!" He exclaimed. "Food sounds nice, let's go!" He offered me his arm and I took it, expecting him to lead me out into the hallway.

Instead, he do-si-do'ed me. After he was done, he just sort of let go of my arm and stood there.

I looked at him questioningly, but chose to ignore it.

"Uh, Keith, I was sort of thinking it would be just me and—" Roger began.

"Nah, let him come!" I interrupted.

"Great, then it's settled! I'll go get the others." And with that, he dashed out of the room.

"Nice going." Roger deadpanned.

"Oh, what, it'll be fun!" I gave him a push.

"It'll be something, alright." He chuckled. "By the way, those pants are fantastic on you!"

"Well thank you!" I exclaimed. I turned around and wiggled my rear at him, but jumped away before he could smack it yet again.

"Hey!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me back, smacking it anyways. "Don't you run off with my favorite ass!"

We laughed, and I swatted him. Then the boys were ready and we headed off.

The day had cleared up beautifully, and the July sun was warm.

We strolled through the streets of Chicago, laughing and talking, and only getting stopped several times.

Eventually, the smell of pizza wafted towards us.

"That smells amazing." I commented. And then, looking up at the sign, "Oh my gosh! It's Lou Malnati's! We have to eat here, everyone says it's the best pizza in Chicago!"

 **A/N: technically Lou Malnati's didn't open till '71, but it's so delicious and iconic that we're going to take a creative liberty and** ✨ **pretend** ✨

"How do you think every pizza place in Chicago manages to be the best pizza in Chicago?" Pete asked quizzically.

"Oh, but I know for sure this one really is! Let's get some!" I grabbed Roger with one hand and John with the other, pulling them towards the door. Pete and Keith followed. "Five, please!" I told the hostess.

She led us into a corner and sat us down, passing out menus. We ordered drinks and everyone got beer except for me and Roger. I had lemonade and he had a soda.

About twenty minutes later, we were digging into the deepest dish pizza I had ever seen. It was piping hot and overrunning with sauce and cheese and everything else.

Everyone was silent, mouths full of food, barring Keith, who talked loudly as he picked the vegetables off his slice.

"They ought to make breadsticks out of this crust," he was saying, "it's perfect for breadsticks."

Our waitress appeared and refilled Keith's empty mug.

"Do you have any breadsticks?" He asked as she topped off the other boys' cups.

"No, I'm sorry," she frowned, "but I'll let the kitchen know it's been suggested!"

This seemed to satisfy Keith, who was now tucking into his nearly-picked-bare piece.

We stayed at the restaurant for a long while, talking and eating until we were so full that John loosened his belt.

For the first time in a couple weeks, I was truly happy and carefree.


	16. sixteen

_Sexual tension/potentially offensive themes ahead._   
**Janice's POV**

We ended up sitting in the pizza joint until our food had settled enough to walk back to the hotel, and even so, I was uncomfortably full the whole way.

John and Keith followed Roger and I into our room, but Pete wanted to be alone for a while. He said his head was hurting.

I flopped onto the bed and spread out like a starfish. John gave me a shove and laid beside me, curling up on his left side to face me. Keith joined us then, spooning John.

"Ew, bloody homo!" John elbowed Keith, who laughed and kissed his cheek. John wiped the kiss off, cringing.

"Ew!" I added. I scooted away from them.

Roger stood on my side of the bed, staring at the three of us.

"Come on, lovey, might as well join us!" I beckoned him.

"I don't know how I feel about, er, what's that word you used earlier, Jan? Canoeing?" He tugged at one of his curls.

"Canoodling?" I laughed.

"Yeh, I dunno how I feel about canoodling my mates."

We all laughed then, making poor Rog blush a bit.

"Come on, sexy," I said in a forced seductive voice, only to snort ungracefully and burst into laughter again.

"Fine," he gave in. This time, it was his turn to shove me. He pushed me towards John and wrapped himself around me, his warm hands coming to rest one on my stomach, the other on my breast.

I found myself looking straight into John's pale blue eyes then, and giggled softly, my heart speeding up. He was handsome in such a unique way. He smiled at me, a gentle curling of his pink lips that didn't quite reach his eyes.

I slid my hand towards his, which was resting up by his face. We linked our pinkies together and I closed my eyes. One more second of looking at him and I don't even know what I'd do. I tried to cram the thoughts out of my head.

I teasingly shook my rear against Roger, causing his breath to catch. The hand that laid on my stomach dropped a little lower to my pelvis and he pushed me against him, gently rolling his hips once.

"Hey, what're you two doing?" John asked lowly.

"Oh, he's just molesting me is all." I deadpanned.

"I am not!" He squeezed my breast, causing my to screech in surprise.

"I dunno, that looks like molestation to me." John said, chuckling.

"Are we all about to fuck right now?" Keith asked excitedly from his place behind John, sitting bolt upright.

"NO!" The three of us cried in unison.

"God, Keith, what are you? Gay?" I asked through my laughter.

"No," Keith pouted, "just horny."

"Freak." John put his hand on top of mine, entwining our fingers.

There was a knock at the door then, and we all split like we were dodging bullets.

"I'll get it!" Keith vaulted over the chair and threw open the door. Pete stood there, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Have any of you got an aspirin or something?" He asked, his eyes closed.

"Yeah, let me check my purse." I walked over to the dresser and picked up the macrame bag. "Oh, you can come in. Here, have a seat." I directed him to the chair Keith has just sailed over.

"What're you bastards doing in here anyways?" Pete asked warily. "Feels like I've just walked in on a crime scene. Or a porno."

"Definitely a porno." Keith said nonchalantly.

I rolled my eyes, finally having produced two aspirin from my purse, and dropped them into Pete's hand.

"Thanks." He swallowed them both dry. I cringed. I had a hard enough time swallowing pills _with_ water.

"We're not doing anything fruity, just so you know." I told him.

"Mhm." He hummed, unconvinced.

"We're not!" I exclaimed defensively. "Oh, my God! The cookies!"

"Cookies?" Keith hopped over to me.

"They're not for you." I swatted him away like a pesky gnat, then pulled the bag of cookies from my purse.

"I made you some cookies, Rog," I said, blushing. I deposited the bag into his waiting hands.

"Wow, thank you!" he replied earnestly, gratitude shining in his baby blues. _Ugh, I could totally just kiss him._ So I did. "Nobody ever makes me anything." he said softly.

"Aw, honey, I'll make ya things all the time! Handmade gifts are, like, my thing." I smiled sweetly at him. 

"Well thank you." He opened the bag and pulled out a cookie, which was a little smashed from being in my purse. "Yum, these are fantastic, Jan!"

"Oh, thanks!" I said humbly, digging my heel into the carpet in that way Nancy always does. Maybe living with her was rubbing off on me. 

"Can I have one? Please?" Keith begged, eyes flitting between Rog and me.

"Half." Roger said. "And only if you beg like a dog."

Everyone laughed, but Keith immediately dropped to his knees, holding up his "paws" and tilting his head to one side. He panted, tongue hanging out, and even gave a little yip for good measure. Everyone laughed harder, but Keith just glowed, reveling in the attention. 

"Alright, here ya go, Moonie." Roger held half a cookie out to him and he jumped up out of the floor, snapping the cookie out of his bandmate's hand with his teeth. "Bloody 'ell, don't take my fingers too!" He shook his hand around dramatically.

"'S'not fair." John said quietly.

"What's not fair?" I asked. I think I was the only one that heard him.

"That they get cookies and I don't." He shrugged.

"Well they're mine, and there's not enough of 'em to go round." Rog took a protective stance over the little plastic baggie. 

"Hey, it's okay!" I smiled, trying to break the sudden tension. "I'll make more for next time. We'll be swimming in cookies!" I had a feeling this was less about cookies and more about John feeling forgotten, though, so I added, "Nobody here is any more or less important than anyone else, my bad for not considering the whole band."

Apparently, that was all John needed to hear. The hostile undertone melted right off of him and he returned to his usual state.

"Boys, I'll be right back. I'm going to go call Nancy. Pete, can I borrow your room for a sec? I don't want you all eavesdropping on my personal business."

"Sure, but make it quick if you can, I want to go lie back down and finish getting rid of this headache." He pulled the room key out of his pocket and handed it to me.


	17. seventeen

**Janice's POV**

I walked over to the other room and let myself in. It was bigger than the one Roger and I had, with two double beds and a pull-out couch. I was glad to know no one had to share a bed.

I located the phone, which was on the nightstand between the two beds, and dialed Nancy's number. Truth be told, I probably couldn't recite it if someone asked me to. It's just muscle memory at this point.

I sat on the edge of one of the beds as I waited for her to pick up.

"Hello?" It was Edith.

"Hi Edith!" I exclaimed.

"Hi, Jannie. Is everything alright?"

"Super. Is Nancy around?"

"Yeah, let me holler."

There was the sound of her hand covering the receiver and then a muffled "NANCYYYYY!" I heard her remove her hand and then heavy footsteps. Nancy had always had the step of a herd of horses. Edith said "Phone for you, honey." and then Nance was on the line.

"Hey, who's this?" she asked in her "cool" voice.

"Who else would it be, doofus?" I giggled.

"Well I dunno. Some boy." she huffed, back to her regular tone.

"Are you expecting a call from some boy?" I asked.

"Miracles can happen." I could almost see her shrugging.

"It wouldn't even take a miracle, you're pretty and you know it." I said authoritatively.

"Ugh, whatever. How's it with the boys?" She asked.

"It's pretty groovy, we're having lots of fun. We went to Lou Manalti's." I kicked my feet against the bed.

"Was it as good as everyone says it is?"

"Oh for sure. Maybe you and me ought to do a trip here sometime."

Nancy giggled. "Maybe. If we ever get the money."

"Yeah." I sighed. "How are you? Missing me?"

"So much. Oh, and, uh, I'm kinda worried about something." Nancy sounded suddenly serious.

"Uh oh, what's going on?" I was immediately concerned.

"My period is a couple days late." She whispered.

"Well isn't it always a little wacky?" Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

"Yeah, it could definitely still come. I'm just worried."

It was silent for a second.

"I'm sure it'll come." I finally said.

"Yeah." Nance replied. "What're you getting into tonight?"

"Uh, I dunno. Something. We don't really have a schedule, we're just kinda doing whatever."

"Sounds relaxing."

"Relaxing? With these boys? Not hardly. I'm having a real blast, though. Wish you were here with me." I said genuinely.

"I wish I was there, too. Ringo misses you by the way, he keeps looking for you. Here, I'll put him on."

I heard some shuffling and then the sound of Ringo's little pink nose snuffling into the phone. He made a little squeaking noise.

"Oh, hi Ringo! Hi kitty kitty. Aww, who's a good kitty? Who's a good little Ringo? Who's a—"

"Erm," Pete looked uncomfortable.

"Hey Nance, I gotta go. Pete just came in and it's his phone I'm using." I giggled.

"Oh okay, I'll talk at you later, then."

"Bye!" I turned to Pete then. "Sorry if I was taking too long, I didn't even hear you come in."

"Obviously. John had to lend me his key. Why were you, uh, baby-talking Ringo Starr?" He crossed the room and sat on the bed opposite me.

"Ah, it wasn't Ringo Starr, it was my best friend's kitten, who she named after him." I paused for a second. "Wait, did you think I was actually talking to Ringo Starr?"

"I don't know your life." Pete shrugged and laid down. "Now, I hate to force you out, but I'm going to try to sleep."

"Yeah. Sorry. Here, I'm putting your key on the table. Or do you want me to just give it to John?"

"Give it to John, there's only the two keys."

"Alright. I hope you feel better!"

Pete gave a dismissive grunt.

I left the room, shutting the light off on the way out.

I walked back into mine and Rog's room to find Keith attempting to force his way into John's lap and Roger lecturing them both.

"What is—no, actually, I'm not even gonna ask. John, here's your room key. Keith, Pete is trying to sleep in there, so you'd better be quiet or he'll knock your block off." I passed the key to John and then ushered them out of the room.

"I feel like a mother!" I sighed once it was just me and the lovely angel himself in sweet peace again.

"Yeh, that's how it is. Imagine how I must feel, dealin' with 'em all the time!" He took my hand and pulled me down onto the bed with him.

"I can't imagine!" I curled up against him, petting his face gently.

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

"Not even. I don't think I'll be hungry again until breakfast. Why, are you hungry or something?" I returned.

"No, just making sure you're alright." He kissed my forehead and I smiled.

"I'm cool. What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"Hmm. Maybe we can see if any films are showing. And then perhaps the Dixie Square Mall? I saw something about it in the paper yesterday and it looks massive." He seemed like he had a plan.

"You know what else is massive?" I asked, lowering my voice in that way Nancy taught me.

"What?" Roger asked, grinning.   
  
I leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Elephants."

My laughter burst out before I could move away from his ear.

"Ow! Hey! Deafen me, why don't ya?" He laughed, shoving me.

"Yeah I think I will!" I yelled.

"Little girl!" He yelled back. He grabbed me and pinned me down, both of us laughing like lunatics.

"Ooh, 'little girl,' I like that!" I cackled.

"Then I'll be sure to never say it again!" He set to tickling me.

"Roger, Roger! No! Stop! No!" I kicked and writhed, but all to no avail. "No! No! Don't! Stop!"

"Don't stop?" He asked, tickling me harder.

I shrieked at the top of my lungs. "No, do stop! Really! Oh my god, I'm going to piss on you right now if you don't stop!"

He stopped immediately and I sprung up from the bed, dashing for the bathroom. Neither of us had stopped laughing.

"Ya done tickled the pee out of me!" I exclaimed from the toilet.

"Gross!" He cried.

After I finished, I went ahead and got in the shower. I felt like I had been sweating all day. Just a few seconds after getting in, I heard the bathroom door open.

"Hey!" Roger said, yanking the curtain open. He stood there smiling like a goon. "Without me?"


	18. eighteen

**Janice's POV**

After our shower, we curled up in bed naked, facing each other, legs tangled up together.

We pulled the white sheets over us and let the warmth of our bodies fill the space.

"God, you're stunning." I mumbled, letting myself fall into his deep blue eyes.

He didn't respond, but placed his hand on my cheek and pulled me into a kiss, biting my lower lip gently. I pushed my hand into the space between us, finding his big, clunky cross necklace and holding on to it.

"Do you ever take this thing off?" I asked when we pulled away.

"Not really." He replied. "I think I'd feel naked without it at this rate."

I stared at him. "Roger. You're naked already."

He sputtered trying to hold back laughter at the realization, and upon doing this, sprayed spit directly into my face. Which made him laugh harder.

I jerked away in shock, but didn't let go of his necklace when I did.

"AH!" He cried as the chain dug into the back of his neck.

"AH!" I yelled, both due to the shock of him yelling and the fact that I hadn't had time to recover from my face being spit on yet.

I dropped the necklace and it fell against his bare chest. With the back of my hand, I wiped the saliva off my cheek and forehead.

"Whoops..." I said sheepishly.

"Janice," he laughed, "I love you, but you're a wreck sometimes."

I laughed too. "I know it, I just can't—you love me?"

Oh my sweet baby Jesus. Roger Daltrey loves me.

"Oh! I guess I—well. I didn't mean to say that, it just sort of came out."

My face fell. Never mind, baby Jesus. Roger Daltrey doesn't love me.

"I mean, I'm growing to love you. In some way." He stammered, trying to recover.

"No, it's cool. Everyone says things they don't mean sometimes." I smiled lightly at him, trying to swallow down my confusion. Did his subconscious love me already? Or did he just say that because he says it to everyone?

I got up out of the bed and walked over to my suitcase, digging out one of my mother's long silk nightgowns and yanking it over my head.

"I'm sorry, Jan." Roger said quietly.

I crossed back over to him and sat on the edge of the bed.

"It's okay. Really."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me down beside him.

"You're an angel, you know that?" I asked him. "No matter what you do I'll always think you are."

"Really?" He asked, searching my face for any sign of laughter or sarcasm.

"Really." I said earnestly. "To go completely out of your way and take such good care of a random girl like me? That's saintlike."

He wrapped his arms around me and sighed contentedly.

"You make it easy, doll."

We stayed like that, holding each other and making drowsy conversation until one of us (I don't remember who) eventually stopped responding, sleep having taken over.

I woke up the next morning drowning in my own sweat.

"Ugh, god." I groaned in disgust.

Throwing the sheet off of my sticky body, I crossed the room and cranked up the air conditioning. Roger lay in the bed. He was still sleeping soundly, lips parted, damp curls plastered to his face, some beginning to frizz.

Gently, I pulled the blankets off of him. Hopefully that would help him cool down a little.

I decided to take a bath. It was a wonder of outer space itself that the sound of the teal ceramic tub filling didn't wake my rockstar, but I guess that being a rockstar, he could sleep through the St. Patty's Day parade.

I lowered myself into the lukewarm water. My skin practically sizzled on contact. Note to self, make sure the damn air con is running before going to sleep.

I laid in the tub with only my nose and eyes out of the water. My stomach growled, but the hotel breakfast had ended before I woke up. I'd have to wait until Roger got up and we could decide on a place to go.

"Hey, love."

I jumped, causing the water to splash a little.

"Oh, hi there!" I smiled at him.

"How long have you been...marinating?" He chuckled.

"Not long, I pretty much just got in. I'd invite you to get in with me, but I don't think we can both fit." I motioned to my naked body.

"Yeah, me neither. You look so beautiful in the water. Like a little crocodile!" He tilted his head.

"A crocodile, thanks." I said dryly. We laughed.

"Well what do you want me to say?" He knelt beside the tub and splashed me. "The water's cold already."

I splashed him back. "You could've stopped just before the crocodile part. And I put it in cold, I woke up sweating."

"Yeah, it is pretty hot in here. Don't sit in there forever, I'd like to get washed up m'self." He cupped his hands and scooped up some water, then dumped it over my head.

"Thanks for that," I giggled, "and I won't, I'm hungry anyways."

"Me too. Let me know when you get out and I'll shower and then we can see about some waffles or something." He stood up and rubbed at his knees, which had turned pink from kneeling.

I soaked for several more minutes and then pulled the drain plug, watching all the water swirl down the hole until I was sitting in an empty tub.

"I'm out!" I called. I dried off with one of the light pink towels, wondering if it had always been pink or if it used to be white.

Roger came in and stepped into the tub, pulling the curtain shut and turning on the water. I left to get dressed.

As I was lacing up the front of my jeans, I heard him start singing in the bathroom. I put my hand over my mouth, holding back a laugh. Somehow, it wasn't good singing. Like, to the point that I couldn't tell what song it was.

I pulled my shirt over my head and crept to the bathroom door. It was Mr. Tambourine Man.

"Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man! Play a song for meeee!" He wailed.

"I'm not sleepy—" I joined.

"AH! Shut up!"

I heard the squeaking of the taps as he turned the water off.

"Can't a bloke enjoy a no-pressure sing in the privacy of the shower?" He scoffed.

"No!" I answered.

"How kind, thank you very much." He opened the bathroom door, hair dripping, a towel around his waist.

"You're too cute." I smiled at him like a freak. Not doing that hadn't gotten any easier.

"Yeah, yeah," he elbowed me, "let me get some clothes on and we'll eat and then head to the mall."

We ended up finding a phenomenal breakfast in some little hole-in-the-wall joint and then went on to the Dixie Square Mall.

The mall was giant, and we spent the day going into every single shop. Every one. Even the nursery furniture shop and the pet supply, just for fun.

I found two pairs of shorts and a handbag, both of which Roger bought for me despite my protest.

When we got outside, he handed me something else.

It was a bag from the toy store. Inside was a Barbie doll box.

"Roger," I whined, blushing, "don't you think I'm a little old for Barbie?"

"Just open it." He grinned.

Sighing, I lifted the lid. Staring back at me were two big, brown glass eyes set in a plain, pretty face framed by long brown hair. It was Barbie's friend Francie, and she was wearing a pink and green checkered dress.

"I had to get her, she reminded me of you." Roger said quietly.

I let out a giddy breath and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you, she's lovely. How'd I miss you buying her?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I did it quickly while you were in the other corner ogling the LEGO."

We laughed, and I put the lid back on Francie, letting her drop into the bag around my wrist.

I was going to hold on to her forever.


End file.
